Simmer Down and Pucker Up
by sarky soomka
Summary: In the midst of his depression, Dean makes a few little mistakes and winds up losing his nursing job, subsequently getting evicted & having to move in with Castiel. Cas is a mess of his own, basically a father to his own younger siblings, and doesn't really have the room to put up Dean. Dean likes to joke that he has become the 'step dad.' Because he has to share a bed with Cas.


_**Simmer Down and Pucker Up**_

"Dude, can I come over?" Dean pleaded, like his best friend would say no or something. It was relatively late he supposed, but not overly likely that Castiel had anything going on. The guy could be a damn hermit sometimes.

"Sure, Dean. Is something the matter?" Cas asked, vaguely concerned, but fairly used to Dean and his dramatics. He wasn't born yesterday.

"Um, yeah." He paused, debating what to say. "I got fired. I'll tell you about it when I get there. See you in five." Dean huffed, preparing Castiel with a brief preview of what kind of mood to expect his friend in.

Awesome. Just what Castiel felt like dealing with tonight. Even though it was only 9:30 on a Saturday and he didn't have to work tomorrow, he still wasn't in the mood. He figured he better check the cupboards for some alcohol because Dean would undoubtedly need it. And if not Dean, he surely wanted a glass for himself.

"Dean's coming over?" His younger sister, Anna, perked up from the couch.

"Yeah. Lost his job or something." Cas sighed absently, producing a near empty bottle of cheap scotch out from the back of the cupboard. Not his favorite drink, he preferred a nice vodka, but Dean wasn't into that sort of thing. Vodka was for chicks.

"Ooh, that sucks. I'll try not to eavesdrop too obviously." Anna laughed, unpausing whatever Netflix show she had on.

A few minutes later, Dean waltzed through the front door, his own half pint of already opened shitty scotch in hand. At least he came prepared. Cas knew he was in for a delightful evening of advice-giving if Dean brought his own booze. He normally just liked to mooch off Cas. Not that he minded, but it was nice to see Dean provide for himself. Even if the circumstances weren't ideal.

"Hey Dean. What the hell happened?" Cas asked, jumping right to the point and pouring himself a drink. He winced at the taste, mentally reminding himself to pick up something good from the store later. He'd finished off the last of a box of wine a few minutes ago and hadn't felt like stopping at the party store after work. He didn't know how long Dean planned on staying, and he hoped that whatever was left in the bottle would be enough for the night. Maybe he could send Anna to the store. He glanced over in her direction and saw that she already had on her pajamas. Damn. She wouldn't want to go anywhere else tonight.

"Dude, it's ridiculous." Dean started, taking a seat at the dining room table. "This _bitch _ratted on me. Said she could 'smell alcohol on my breath.' Which is total bullshit. But they had to check it out... And remember. . . that _pot_ I smoked a few weeks ago? Well, naturally it came up on the drug test and now I'm fucked." Dean ranted, taking a swig of his scotch right out of the plastic bottle.

"So you weren't drinking on the job?" Cas needed to backtrack a little, Dean tended to go fast.

"No! Yeah right! Dude, I'm a fucking nurse. Well..._was._" Dean got up out of his seat to fetch a glass from the cabinet. He could monitor his drinking better that way. "And like did I really think one little joint was going to fuck over my career?" Dean griped, completely exasperated.

"Well, you're a-" Cas started. He should know better than to think he'd be able to get a word in edgewise when Dean needed to rant.

"Cas, don't even give me that 'oh, you're a nurse, you shouldn't even be smoking pot ever' crap. I've made it this far in life, haven't I?" Dean didn't have the patience for any of this. But frankly, neither did Castiel. He just wanted to have a drink and watch TV with Anna. Without any drama. He had enough drama at work.

Cas looked over to the living room again to see that Anna was indeed listening. Her show was back on pause, but now she was pretending to play with her phone. Nope, not obvious at all.

"I just don't know what I'm gonna do. I can't just get another nursing job. They told me I gotta do some rehab thing first. Like AA meetings or some shit. Fuck!" Dean cried, putting his hands on his face.

"Hey, it'll be okay. You'll find another job." Cas didn't know how to console his friend right now. He'd never lost his job like that. And sure, maybe Dean did like to drink and take pills and smoke too much, but he'd always been fine. This chick must've had it out for Dean. He probably had sex with her and never called her again or some crap. Some people were so easily threatened!

"I don't even know how to apply for jobs anymore. Everything is online." Dean grumbled, taking a rather large gulp and nearly choked.

"Well, I'll help you. And I know Sam will help. You have a support system. So try to stay positive." Cas shrugged, like _he_ knew anything about staying positive.

Castiel has definitely had his own share of problems. He was basically a father of two at twenty-nine years old. And his kids were his own damn siblings.

Their parents died in a nasty car crash a few years ago, leaving Castiel as guardian of his two siblings- Gabriel and Anna. The three certainly got along just fine, but that didn't make it any easier to run a household and live as orphans. And a hairdressers salary didn't quite pay the bills as well as he would like. They couldn't even afford cable. He was trying to find a second job he could do on Sundays or something for a little extra grocery money. A little extra booze money. Because hey, Dean had his demons and so did Castiel. No one gave him any shit for drinking every night. Besides, he was a hairdresser. As if _that_ justified everything. All of them sat in the break-room and drank wine every Thursday night after the last client left. Castiel just liked to drink it _every_ night. He had a lot on his plate, damn it.

"Dude, I don't even have a computer."

"You know you can come over and use our computer anytime." He meant it, but he mildly hoped Dean would just go to the library and use their computers. Damn, he sounded like a terrible friend.

-0000-

Dean couldn't believe his luck. Sure, he'd been spiraling down for quite a while now, but he didn't think he was going to _lose his job _over it! And he didn't even have to clarify to Cas that it was actually the cocaine he got down in Detroit that showed up on the drug test. He didn't really want Anna to hear that shameful aspect of the story. He wasn't even sure if pot alone could actually get him fired. But his mother had died and of course, Dean dealt with pain the only way he knew- destructively.

But Dean had been getting better. Or so he thought. It had been eight months since her funeral, he was finally coming to terms that he would never taste her pecan pie again or hear her nag about how he needed to find a nice, respectable woman to bring home. He was getting better. Then one evening a few weeks ago, feeling particularly self pitying and pathetic, he relapsed- just one more time- back down to the ghetto to waste his money on a pinch of blow.

It wasn't even good. He didn't even like it. He regretted it the instant he snorted it off his scuzzy kitchen counter. He had looked into the mirror that night and finally saw what everyone else did- that he needed help. He was too skinny, looking a lot older than he should for a man of only thirty. His face had formed a few hard lines around his mouth, from all the chain smoking and alcohol no doubt. He'd already cut back on all his dependencies quite significantly, but the damage was done. It wasn't too late to put a hold on some of the premature aging, but he'd never get back the smooth, youthful face he yearned for. And certainly no 'respectable woman to bring home' was going to want to date a fucked up guy like him.

And now he'd gone and lost his job, so caught up in his own misery he didn't even stop to think of the consequences. He needed a damn Xanax.

He couldn't even bear to call Sam and tell him what happened. He didn't want to hear the judging and the scolding. Because his damn lawyer brother could do no wrong and would just _know better_. And in theory Dean clearly did know better, but so what? He just didn't know how to do anything right anymore.

Now he was going to have to burden Cas and sit on his computer every damn day until he could find another job. And that led him to a whole other series of questions. What the hell was he going to do? What was he qualified for? Certainly nothing that paid well, that's for sure. He'd probably have to suck it up and get a job at a freakin' McDonald's. Because that's all he was good for.

-00000-

"Knock, knock." Dean called, pushing open the screen door to Castiel's condominium. He felt a little bit better today. He could fake it a little bit better today.

"Hey man, I'm making panini's. Want one?" Cas asked, gesturing towards some fancy Cuisinart grill press.

"Um, okay?" Dean shrugged, not that hungry. But he probably should eat. He didn't need to lose any more weight.

"Do you like pesto?" Castiel asked, knowing that Dean would eat just about anything set in front of him. He liked to pretend to be a big tough beef eating man, but Dean could scarf down some food like his life depended on it.

"Probably." He replied, sitting down at the laptop, conveniently located on the dining room table.

"I have to run a few errands today, but don't let that stop you from hanging around and using the computer. Anna is home anyway." Castiel explained, just as he placed the sandwiches on the grill.

"Okay." Dean sighed, staring helplessly at the Google search screen.

Anna bounced down the stairs, eager to say hello. She threw herself down at the kitchen counter, waiting for her sandwich. "How's it going today?"

"Ugh." Dean groaned haplessly, but not entirely immune to Anna's cheerfulness. He loved her and could not help but smile when she was around. "I just don't know how to do this."

Anna rattled off a few job search sites for Dean to check out, naturally with a few jokes hidden between the lines. But Dean knew Anna's sharp sense of humor like the back of his hand and knew what to take seriously and what to weed out. He was pretty sure working at a nail salon or bagging groceries weren't serious suggestions.

"You could work at one of those nail salons _in _the grocery store, then bag groceries later after the nail shop closes. Work two jobs all in the same place." Castiel piped in, setting a hot sandwich down in front of Dean. It looked absolutely delectable.

"You guys are terrible." Dean chuckled, taking a bite. "Dude, this is awesome. What's on it?"

"Goat cheese, smoked mozzarella, pesto, and tomato. That's it." Castiel shrugged, spilling iced tea all over the counter. "Shit."

Castiel checked the usual spot for a fresh roll paper towels, already knowing they were out, willing a new one to magically appear. Better add those to the grocery list. Oh, and toothpaste too! "Anna, will you get me a clean rag?"

Anna reluctantly obliged, abandoning her sandwich to dash upstairs to the linen closet. Because of course they couldn't just have a handful of rags already in a kitchen drawer. That would make too much sense.

Gabriel barged through the front door, his best friend Balthazar in tow, carrying a bag full of god knows what. "Hey, Dean-o!"

"Gabe, that better not be any more pot shit. I told you I don't want that in my house anymore." Castiel groaned, hoping that Gabriel would listen to him one day. He didn't want any more grow lamps or air purifiers or soil coming through that front door.

"Relax, these are only edibles." Gabe chuckled, producing a large chocolate bar from the bag. "You only need one little piece to fuck you up."

Gabriel probably couldn't have been more of a stoner even if he tried. After a few stints of rebellion when their parents died and winding himself in jail a couple times, he couldn't risk getting into trouble anymore. Somehow he managed to obtain a medical marijuana card for 'chronic neck pain,' and was then able to grow his own weed in the house. Much to Castiel's chagrin. He was too embarrassed to have guests over because the stench of pot wafted through the house like freakin' sewer water. Or maybe he was always spilling bong water. . . No.

He basically took over the entire basement; one room for growing pot and stinking up the entire house to high heaven, and the other room for his stinky bedroom. They were able to have a little tiny area off to the side he allowed to use as family storage. Because Gabriel liked to think he ruled the roost.

"So there's pot in the chocolate?" Anna asked, already knowing the answer. If Gabriel bought it, chances are it had something to do with marijuana. Or candy. And marijuana _in _candy just about hit the jackpot.

"Yeah, dude. Want to try it?" He asked, putting it away before she even had a chance to reply.

"Um, no." Anna rolled her eyes. Why did he even bother asking? But at least Gabriel was considerate in that sense.

"You guys, don't bother Dean while I'm gone. He's gotta use the computer, it's important." Castiel commanded, taking his cellphone off the charger and thrusting it in the pocket of his tan trenchcoat.

"Don't worry, Cas. They're fine. I don't want to be a bother. Just go about your business like I'm not even here." Dean sighed, a total martyr.

"Dean, you're not bothering us. Really. All you're doing is sitting at the table. They have their own computers if you're worried about hogging ours. Besides, who gives a shit if you're bothering _them. _They'll be fine." Cas laughed, putting on his shoes.

"Okay. But-"

"Oh my god, shut up. You're fine!" Cas laughed, clapping Dean on the back. "Just relax. It's gonna be okay."

"All right." Dean smiled, somehow believing Castiel all of a sudden.

"I'll see you in an hour or two. I'll bring back something to cook for dinner. Text me, you guys, if you have any requests."

-0000-

Almost two weeks later, Dean still hadn't made any more progress in the job department. He'd applied at just about everywhere. Even the silly little shit job places that would pay him minimum wage for 20 hours a week. But he needed _something. _Anything. He was getting desperate. His rent was due in three days. He couldn't pay it.

He momentarily humored the idea of applying for another nursing position, but he'd gotten himself into enough trouble for the year. It was only April. He didn't want to know what could happen if he tried to work as a nurse right now. They'd surely look up his file and then they'd see that he was a worthless, druggie scumbag and he'd probably go to jail or something equally as humiliating.

He checked his crumbling, old as balls cell phone to see if he missed any calls. Surprisingly, he had a message from a flower nursery. He hadn't remembered applying there, but beggars really couldn't be choosers in this stage of the game.

Calling the manager back, they scheduled an interview for this upcoming Thursday. Hey, it wasn't ideal, but it could be something. However, he wasn't going to hold his breath.

-0000-

_A/n: Hi guys! I just wanted to greet you and say that this is my first crack at a Supernatural story. I thought about turning this into a lengthy one-shot, but I changed my mind and its turned into a multi-chapter fic. By the way, this story is roughly based on true events (lets say. . . parts of my life) But only about 30 percent. But I'm not good at math, so that number is probably not accurate. With that being said, it's gonna be easy for me to write this up. _

_Anyways, let me know what you think of the preview!_

_Much love _


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